


Things Glimpsed Through Open Doors

by pagerunner



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, D/s, F/M, M/M, e094-e095 Timeskip (Critical Role)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 12:50:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12912270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pagerunner/pseuds/pagerunner
Summary: In his time spent lodging with Vex at her newly constructed manor -- and by extension, also lodging with Percy -- Tary has thus far avoided interrupting his hosts during any of their private moments. Until today. It's left him with a lot to think about. Set during the Critical Role timeskip.





	Things Glimpsed Through Open Doors

Tary got home much sooner than he’d planned that fateful afternoon, which, he supposed later, was the root of the problem.

If he’d held to his announced schedule, or he’d estimated a more accurate hour in the first place, he might not have stumbled into what he did upon return. But in his defense, his housemates and hosts for these last few months were being far more quiet than usual. He know what to listen for, most times, and the telltale signs they were up to private business. An abandoned meal, as if they’d gotten inspired partway through while trading bites and simply had to slip away from the table. Unfinished projects in the workshop, or books left unattended with only a hastily improvised marker before the reader disappeared. Bits of clothing scattered about, or tossed haphazardly into improbable places. That last one happened with remarkable frequency.

Recently Tary had been trying to choose a fitting descriptor for Percy and Vex vis-à-vis their relationship, since he intended to chronicle Vox Machina’s adventures and escapades with appropriate attention to detail. But he knew that the more salacious parts required some discretion, so he’d been turning over alternatives for some time. “Passionate” was certainly accurate, if perhaps cliché. “Untempered” seemed a good word to describe their desire, although it, too, lacked a certain verve. Really, “voracious” was feeling closer to the mark these days.

What he was seeing this time, though…there was something a little bit more to this.

“Hello,” he called upon entry, to no immediate response. That wasn’t a surprise. Vex and Percy might have been out of the house themselves, or otherwise occupied. Vex’s house seemed mostly quiet, though, the servants out of sight and the occupants apparently absent, and as Tary strolled through the first level, everything seemed to be in order. So did the workshop when he peered in; it looked as if Percy had left it entirely undisturbed. Tary shrugged and straightened his jacket, then considered his elaborate clothes. They were perfectly appropriate for a jaunt about town, he felt, but less so for a lazy afternoon at home. _Might as well find something more comfortable,_ he thought.

That turned out to be the second mistake, and he shortly thereafter walked into the third, as soon as he ascended the stairs.

The bedrooms in Vex’s house were all on the second floor, with the opulent master suite centered on the southern wall. The walk to Tary’s room took him past Vex’s door, which meant he’d overheard a few interesting things while passing by—although since the first, eventful discovery of that fact, Percy had tacitly implemented a few things he’d learned from Tary about soundproofing. If anything was to be heard from their room now, it meant the door was open and the coast was largely clear. Today, Tary could hear voices there, quiet and level, as if simply engaged in conversation. “Ah,” he said aloud, altering his pace and direction. “If that’s the case…”

He raised his hand to rap on the door and offer a quick hello. In the process, he accidentally nudged it the rest of the way open. Peering inside was reflex. So was the way his jaw dropped open in shock moments later.

The main reason for that was Percy, not seated side by side with Vex for a casual chat, but down on his knees in the dead center of the room.

Tary stared, shocked into silence. Percy’s head was tilted back, his lips slightly parted, his whole body trembling. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back. He wasn’t wearing anything except, to Tary’s amazement, a slim leather collar. And Vex was standing before him, still clothed in rich crimson silk. She had one finger crooked beneath the collar, carefully keeping it taut. Percy’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard; he wasn’t too constricted for breath, but that black leather was clearly tight enough to make him go tense all the way through. He was also distinctly, unmistakably aroused.

The only thing that almost obscured that fact was the smoke spilling down Percy’s body and across the floor, and beginning to coil tendrils around Vex, too, as if to reach for her when Percy could not.

“Percy, darling,” Vex murmured, in that same calm, soothing tone Tary had overheard. She kept holding Percy gently in place. Neither of them had any attention for anything except each other. “Steady breaths. You’re all right.”

Her other hand touched his cheek. Percy turned into her palm, a shuddering breath escaping his lips. He obeyed, though, slowly taking another breath in, letting another one out. Tary helplessly watched his scarred, smoothly muscled chest rise and fall. While Percy breathed, another wisp of that inexplicable smoke escaped his lips, like warm exhalations on a cold, cold day. This was darker, though, more shadow than substance, leaving strange distortions in the air. Against Percy’s pale skin, it made an eerie study in contrast.

Vex didn’t seem alarmed to see it. She only held on, softly continuing to speak.

“I’ve got you, Percy.” Vex’s thumb caressed his cheek. “You’re safe with me. You don’t need to be afraid.”

Something about the way she said it also began returning Tary to his senses. He backed up a step, knowing he should not be here. Oh, he should be _anywhere_ but here. But it was so, so hard to look away. Percy, who could put on such haughty airs when it suited him, was fascinatingly different here: willingly surrendering bit by bit, despite the struggle with nervous instincts. The more Vex spoke to him, the more the roiling smoke around him eased. There was something almost graceful about his pose now, in the way everything about him subtly curved toward her. Or not so subtly, in one particular way. Tary couldn’t help one more furtive look at the whole of his body as the air began to clear. _Dear gods,_ he thought, a wistful ache unfurling deep within him. _He’s beautiful…_

“Tell me what you want,” Vex murmured, still seemingly oblivious to anyone else. “You’ve been so good. I can give you this. Just ask.”

For a moment Percy bowed his head, as if it were too much to say while looking at her. “I…I want…you to touch me.” Another curl of smoke encircled him, but then he lifted his face to hers, and even from across the room Tary could see the naked yearning there. “Please.”

She let go of the collar and bent down to him. Her smile was so soft, but there was such intent in every gesture, too.

It was painfully obvious what was about to happen.

With a wrench of effort, Tary turned and hurried away from the door. He honestly had no idea where he was heading, except _away,_ and he found himself stepping through the next door he saw. That instinct may have proven misguided the first time, but at least this room was empty of people. It was also, he discovered, the linen closet. Well, it would do. Tary leaned against a shelf in the narrow space and tried to catch his breath, one hand pressing to his own cheek. Gods, he was flushed. And…well, no, that wasn’t the only physical reaction he was having.

That was embarrassing.

Tary tried his best to will the effects of his own arousal away, but it took a while, especially once he heard the muffled but devastatingly identifiable cry of Percy reaching climax several rooms away.

Tary swore under his breath, knocked his forehead once against the nearest shelf, then set himself to deliberately boring thoughts. He’d moved on from determined internal recitations of Sylvan verb conjugations and recipe notes from the bakery to counting and recounting how many folded sheets were stacked up on the nearest shelf when the door abruptly swung open again, and a much less calm voice—it sounded almost amazed, really—pronounced, “ _Taryon Gary Darrington.”_

Suddenly awash in memories of every time he’d ever been in trouble, Tary turned to see Vex staring him down. “Um,” he said awkwardly, and then, “Hello?”

He tried out a wave. It didn’t go very well.

“I thought you were supposed to be out this afternoon,” she said. He finally took a good look at her then: still draped in sleek red, color high in her cheeks, dark eyes glittering. She fairly glowed with excess energy, although not all of it could be credited to what she’d just been doing. Clearly, part of it was indignation. “Instead I find you here, after I’m certain I saw you in my bedroom doorway.”

“I, um…”

“Don’t try to back out of this,” Vex said, pointing at him. “You know I don’t miss these things. Just tell me: were you _watching_ us?”

Still uncertain what to do with his hands, he fluttered them nervously. “No! Well, I mean, not on _purpose._ ”

“Not on purpose.”

He set his jaw. Caught in Vex’s intense focus, it turned out that _his_ instinct was not to go calm and obedient, but to burst out with explanations and justifications. “I did go out earlier, but it turns out that the ladies at the bakery didn’t need my assistance today, and I visited Pike for a bit but the temple work frankly gets a bit boring, all apologies to her and her divine patron, so…I simply decided to make my way back! And I only meant to say hello. Your door _was_ open.”

That last came out defensively. Vex tilted her head, her rumpled hair tumbling to the side. “It shouldn’t have been. I shut it just in case.”

 _Ah._ Tary made a knowing nod and tapped one finger on the shelf. “Well, I did warn you that the contractors made a few errors. No major concerns, I should say, nothing I couldn’t help you repair, but if that door latch is like mine was, it may need a bit of adjustment, and…”

“Oh, never mind that.” Vex shook her head. A bit of her irritation seemed to disperse with it. “That’s my mistake. I’ll see to it. But you were only there by accident?”

“Of course I was! You know I have no intention of intruding. We’ve talked about that.” He blushed again. “I just…if you’d said anything, or stopped…”

Her expression changed quickly into astonishment. “I couldn’t have done that to Percy! Interrupting everything, breaking the mood, making him even _more_ vulnerable?”

“Oh,” Tary said, his voice going smaller. He thought again of the look on Percy’s face, the way Vex had so carefully been handling him, and he ducked his head. He obviously _hadn’t_ understood what was going on behind closed doors between those two, and he still didn’t. But he knew that this much, at least, was necessary to say: “I’m very sorry.”

Vex gave a heavy sigh. “Well, you did leave. I know you did. And then you ran off, and…” She looked around. “Hid in a closet, evidently. Whatever for?”

“It…seemed like a good idea at the time?”

Vex watched him for a minute, speechless. Finally she said, “Oh, _blondie bear,”_ and laughed apparently despite herself. Tary did too, still feeling terribly sheepish but at least a little bit better. They stood together like that for a moment before he caught his breath.

“Is Percy upset at me?” he found himself asking, more nervously than he meant to let himself sound.

Vex looked surprised. “Percy? Oh, no.” Reminded of something, she reached past him and pulled a small towel off the shelf. “To be honest, I doubt he noticed. He was too wrapped up in other things.”

“That…is likely true.”

“But I do need to finish tending to him. A little TLC after these things is always for the best.”

Tary looked at the cloth in her hands, wondering briefly what she meant to do with it, but then he put two and two together—and noticed the small, wet mark she hadn’t managed to keep off of her silks—and said, “Ah.” He cleared his throat. “That’s…of course. I just…”

“What is it?”

He thought again about collars and smoke, and said, “I do have a few questions, still. About what I saw.”

Vex gave him a look. She was, Tary knew, a very perceptive woman, and the way her eyebrow had quirked indicated she had some notion of what those questions were. “I imagine you do,” she said. “If you must, the two of us will be down _later._ ”

That last word was emphasized enough that even Tary couldn’t fail to take the hint. “Yes. All right. I can keep myself otherwise occupied; I have projects I meant to get to. You two can”—he glanced again at the cloth, and waved a hand—“do whatever needs doing, and I’ll be around.”

Vex swiftly kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you. Be a dear and tell the cook to send up some light refreshments while you’re at it, would you? And get something for yourself. You look as though you could do with something cool to drink.”

Tary nodded, but also suddenly wondered what _else_ Vex had noticed about his current state of affairs. He blushed again. Vex let out a bright little peal of a laugh before she waved to him and disappeared.

In the silence afterward, Tary was left behind with a whole list of questions he wanted to ask, right alongside several he suspected he shouldn’t. And although he hadn’t meant to return to it, the memory of Percy’s voice at that last moment was still there, too: all of that pleasure and all that desperate relief, and as always, Vex’s name on his lips.

—

Tary spent most of the rest of the afternoon in Vex’s library.

He was getting far less done with his own work than he’d suggested to her, but instead, was paging through a number of books in the name of research. The selection here was respectably wide. Along with various volumes on history, language, religion—Vex had been developing a preoccupation with the gods—and other scholarly subjects, there was a fair collection of collected bardic tales and works of fiction. Vex, he’d discovered, had a taste for romantic epics. The other time Tary had almost seen more of Percy and Vex than he’d expected, he’d walked into the library to discover that Vex was reading Percy selections from one of those novels. She’d grinned every time Percy groaned at the worst of the euphemisms, but he also began to get somewhat…restless…at what they were implying. When Percy finally got a certain _look_ in his eye, as if he intended to take the book from Vex’s hands and get up to something far less literary, Tary had quickly turned from his intended book-browsing and went to occupy himself elsewhere.

Today, he found himself seeking out that particular novel for…well, whatever had been so inspiring about it, he supposed. Ideas. Information. An answer or two.

There was one thing he _knew_ the book wouldn’t answer, though, and that part was much on his mind as he thumbed through the pages and read a passage here, a line or two there. He was still thinking about it when the sound of approaching footsteps finally drew his attention.

To his surprise, it wasn’t Vex following up on their previous conversation. It was Percy.

“Hello, Tary,” he said evenly. “I wondered if I’d find you in here.”

Tary gaped, but nodded and gestured to the nearest chair. “Please,” he said hoarsely. He hoped it wasn’t obvious how he’d just looked Percy over head to toe, noting that he was once again smartly attired and groomed, from his neatly combed hair and shining glasses right down to his boots. He might have just walked in from a Council meeting, going by the look of his wardrobe.

Tary, however, noticed that the top button of his shirt had been uncommonly left undone, and the collar was hanging slightly loose. He wondered, if Percy turned into the light just so, if he’d see any hint of a bruise on that pale throat.

Tary swallowed hard, shut his book, and tried his best to look interested in innocent conversation. He suspected the attempt was not convincing.

“Good to see you,” Tary said, nervously but truthfully. Then, remembering exactly how much of Percy he’d seen today, he stumbled straight into the least innocent topic he could, despite all intentions. “Um. Again, I suppose, but I should apologize for that part…”

Percy smiled wryly and answered, “Yes. Vex did mention that you…”

“Almost interrupted, earlier.”

“Something like that.”

“It was _very_ much unintentional,” Tary said, but Percy waved him off. After an obvious moment of thinking over possible replies, Percy finally gave one of those expressive sighs of his and leaned back in the chair.

“I believe you,” he said at last. “But I suppose that was a bit of an eyeful. With…Vex’s little accessories, and all.”

 _Accessories, plural?_ Tary almost asked, but he stopped at the last moment. Instead, he said, “Before you begin, I should say I’ve, well, at least _read_ about such things”—he awkwardly waggled the book he’d been reading, which probably didn’t help his case—“and I have some understanding of their appeal, so you shouldn’t feel that you need to explain, if…”

“The collar is new,” Percy said, bringing Tary up short. He seemed to have made up his mind to explain regardless. “It was Vex’s idea. She’s trying to help me get comfortable with certain old fears. And certain things I want, to be honest.”

That was more than Tary had expected him to say. Cautiously he asked, “Things you want?”

“If you’ve read about this,” Percy said, somewhat dryly, “I assume you’ve gathered that this is in large part about matters of control.”

“And you want…not to have it?”

“Sometimes. It can be oddly liberating. Pleasing, to know when you’ve done well.”

Tary thought of Percy upstairs, the yearning arc of his body, and felt himself go warm again. He adjusted awkwardly in his chair. “And what about the other times?”

“Other times I want other things,” he said, deceptively simply. Something about his tone just then made Tary’s breath hitch. Soon after, though, Percy went more introspective. “And sometimes wanting anything at all is…complicated.”

And _that_ recalled the image of smoke: of some sort of power rebelling against its bindings, a force deep within Percy stirring to unsettled life. Tary felt terribly as if he were in over his head, but he asked, “Is that what that smoke was about?”

That startled Percy, as if he’d forgotten something. It took him a second to answer. “Gods, that’s right. You weren’t here when Orthax was. You wouldn’t know.” He turned aside, shaking his head. When his gaze returned to Tary, the twist of his smile was deeply sardonic. “I do have a way of surprising people with that.”

“Orthax,” Tary slowly repeated. “You told me once there’d been a demon.”

“Possessing me. Unknown to me, for a time. Yes. That was its name.”

“And that…caused _this?_ ”

“It left scars,” Percy replied, his voice low. He was mostly addressing his hands now as he spoke. “Many things that happened to me did, to be fair, but this is the one that…manifests. You’ve seen I have a few small powers.” Tary nodded, intrigued despite himself. Percy hadn’t ever seemed at ease with any of his own magic, and rarely discussed it. “Orthax is to blame for those. This is one of them. That smoke appears of its own volition sometimes, when I’m…pushed to extremes.”

“Fascinating,” Tary murmured. “Can you call it up deliberately?”

“Yes, although I’ve rarely chosen to.”

“So…largely a stress response.” He rubbed briefly at his neatly trimmed beard.“If you’ll forgive another question—and I mean it purely in scientific interest, of course—does it happen often, when you…?”

He gestured awkwardly, for lack of a suitable phrase. Percy stared at Tary’s hands, then coughed out a laugh. Eventually he collected himself and said, “Ah, no. That was a first. It’s usually anger, or as you said, high stress.” His voice went wry. “Oddly enough, ever since being held captive and in chains, I’ve had a little trouble with being bound.”

“Oh,” Tary said, wincing in apology. He’d heard a bit about that, too. “Understandably. But then why—?”

“Why would I do this at all?”

“Yes.”

There was, for once, no guile in his expression. “Because it’s Vex.”

Tary opened his mouth, closed it again. Percy watched him, interpreted the _it’s really that simple?_ meaning of his expression, and he shrugged.

“She’s never been afraid of what I am, even when I've been certain she should be”—there was such rueful affection to those words—"and it’s easier not to be afraid, with her. And it’s different, now that…well. It’s very different.” He looked like he was about to stop there, but after a moment, said one more thing. Something honest and, to borrow Vex's all-too-appropriate word, vulnerable had crept into his voice. “I _am_ hers.”

And Tary had no idea what he could say to that.

Percy let out another thoughtful sigh. In the silence, Tary fidgeted with the book still in his lap. He’d read so many romantic stories himself—tales of passionate, voracious lovers in their own right, tangled in dramas and desires aplenty—that at first he’d thought this was simply how it _was_ to be in love. Then, disillusioned, he’d begun to wonder if such relationships only actually existed in fiction. Discovering that they _could_ happen might have been a more hopeful revelation if the proof hadn’t come in the form of someone he could never have.

He thought of Lawrence for the first time in a while, and thought with a faint pang, _I remember when you said I hadn’t properly grasped the concept of irony. I’m still not sure if this is it, but it’s certainly something._

“Are you all right?” Percy said at last, stirring him from his reverie. Tary came alert again and tried to recover his composure.

“Oh, I’m fine,” he said, with a certain false airiness. It didn’t last through the next, more genuine statement. “I…just wish I knew what it was like to have someone like that.”

“Ah.” Percy thought that through. “If it’s any consolation, you’ve only just begun with all this. And at least you have a clearer idea now of what you want.”

 _Yes,_ Tary thought, looking him over once again. _Definitely irony._

“Gods knew it took me a long while to do anything about my desires,” Percy went on. “But it was worth it when I did.” He made an interesting little face. “And I’m still discovering things, clearly. I expect I will for a while. As will you. ”

“I suppose so.” Tary took a breath and set his shoulders. He felt as though some of his trademark optimism was called for. “And there’s no sense in _pining,_ is there? I’m still a hale young man with the world at my feet. I have all _sorts_ of adventures yet in which to partake.” He paused, reconsidering. “That preposition rule makes for a terribly awkward sentence.”

Percy looked bemused at the digression, but he agreed. “Common has its drawbacks. I always felt like Celestial is much better ordered.”

“But that’s exactly it!” Tary exclaimed, at once grasping for any fresh topic and overcome with genuine interest. “Do you know why several of our clumsier rules exist? They were grafted in by scholars who thought Celestial was the superior language, but the common tongue adapted badly to that sort of construction, and so now—”

“We’re told not to split infinitives because we’d be offending the linguistic sensibilities of the angels,” Percy said, understanding him perfectly. Tary burst out laughing.

Even amidst the welcome diversion, though, a voice in the back of his head whispered, _Damn it all. Someone who understands something like that? He’d be perfect_. For a moment Tary felt a helpless sort of longing. But he tried his best again to take a step back. No matter what, he reminded himself, they could still be here together as friends to share such a conversation, and that in and of itself was such a valuable thing. That part didn’t have to change. Especially if Percy wasn’t feeling inclined to be angry at Tary for his blunders.

“I’m only glad I haven’t offended _you_ today,” he said, once he’d calmed down a bit.

“Offended? For what?”

“I’m sorry I stumbled in on you earlier. I wasn’t thinking, and it was rude to look. I’ll be more careful from now on.”

“Oh, well.” Percy looked self-conscious, but only just. “No real harm done. And I apologize for the…surprise indecency on my part.”

“Oh, that part wasn’t…so bad. Um.” He hesitated. “Perhaps I should rephrase.”

Percy smiled. Tary supposed that Percy was, after all, just vain enough to take that as a compliment. So he decided for once to let discretion be the better part of valor, and he stopped there. He set his book aside and got up. “What hour is it getting to be, then? I imagine it’s almost time to eat. We can continue this conversation over dinner. That is, the conversation about languages. I know Vex is thoroughly knowledgeable on the topic herself.”

Percy’s mouth quirked, and he glanced at the book. “She is quite the cunning linguist,” he said, as if he were quoting, but spoke at too _sotto voce_ a pitch for Tary to notice. Tary just continued talking.

“And before we go, I feel like I ought to thank you, again, for keeping me on in your home like this. Even if I may sometimes get in the way.”

That drew Percy's attention again. “Oh, nonsense.” He rose, too, and to Tary's surprise, gently clapped his shoulder in reassurance. “I can't speak for Vex, but I certainly don't think that, and she's never said any such thing. As far as I'm concerned, you’re welcome here for as long as you’d like to stay.”

Tary felt a sudden rush of warmth at that, one that didn’t have anything to do with attraction. He impulsively stepped forward to turn the gesture into a hug. Percy wasn’t much for that sort of familiarity, Tary knew—at least with anyone who wasn’t Vex—and he still startled momentarily. But to Tary’s relief, he returned the hug for long enough that Tary let out a happy, if wistful, sigh.

He also did his best to quiet his own, newly vivid awareness of Percy’s physicality under his hands. He could deal with that thought later. Much later. Perhaps when he could feel assured _he_ wouldn’t be the one walked in on this time.

“Well, then.” Tary let go before he could chase that idea any further. “Let’s go eat. And drink. Definitely it’s time for a drink. Vex suggested that to me earlier, actually. I believe she had the right idea.”

“She usually does,” Percy replied.

Tary spared one more moment to think, _Well, she does have excellent taste,_ and then with a conscious effort, he let that go, too. Together, he and Percy walked out into the dining room. What awaited them might not be the romantic dinner Tary still caught himself dreaming of, but for tonight, it would do more than well enough.

And tomorrow, Tary thought, slowly coming to a realization, perhaps he needed to start making good on all his talk, and prepare to start venturing out in search of something he truly could call his own.

 _I may be welcome, but it’s_ their _home,_ Tary thought without rancor, watching Vex and Percy together. _Even with all his work at the castle, he belongs here with her. And I…can’t just linger forever. I still have my own dreams. My own family matters. My own legacy to build._

_I’m not entirely sure if I’m ready, but…I think it’s almost time._

He stirred from his thoughts when Vex passed him a glass, one brimming with something that looked both delicious and deliciously alcoholic. When he sniffed it, gingerly evaluating the aroma, Vex laughed out loud. “Just this once, Tary dear,” she said pointedly, “just drink up. I think we’ve all earned it today.”

She gave Percy a subtle glance then, too, and an even subtler smile, but Tary declined to try interpreting it this time. He merely tilted his glass in answer to both of them before he raised it to his lips.

 _To courage,_ he thought privately, not even beginning to grasp the irony of that thought. But he drank it all down, every last little drop, and at least in that moment, the feeling was everything that he’d hoped.

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, I'm just as surprised as these characters to have made that digression into linguistics. I didn't expect to employ that pun, either, yet _here we are._


End file.
